Why Lassie Didn't Die and Old Yeller Did
by jasper03
Summary: After killing their first zombie, Dean tells Sam how he really feels about their father's death. Sam doesn't know how to help his big brother until they make a trip up to Bobby's house. Please Read, Review and Subscribe! I'll give you cookies
1. Everything Looks Better With Beer

**I actually dunno how I got this. I was in the shower and somewhere between the shampoo and the conditioner I began relating Lassie and Old Yeller to Supernatural. The water had reached tepid long ago and I believe that factor contributed to this. I blame my kid sister for taking all the hot water. Let us chase her with flaming torches and pitchforks! Well maybe not pitchforks...mom always said don't run with sharp pointy objects...she also said don't play with fire, but I do. Maybe we should just play Toilet Freeze Tag and freeze her into a Frozen Toilet for all eternity! MuHaHaHaHa!**

**So yeah. Please read and drop a review...its not really an option, more like a command. ;-p**

**Set a few weeks after CSPDT.**

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** Why Lassie Didn't Die and Old Yeller Did**

Sam needed air. He had been stuck in the room of the moldy motel all day, save the time it took to drop his brother off at a bar a few hours ago. Sam claimed he needed the car to get something at the store and Dean had just nodded. It was disturbing that Dean didn't even put up a fight. He just crawled into the passenger seat and waited for Sam to start the car.

The young hunter checked his watch for the time. His brother was probably going to call for Sam to pick him up soon. Dean didn't usually get drunk; it was difficult for the man to get that far. Dean, unlike Sam, could hold his liquor very well. Sam walked over to the parked Impala and sat on the hood waiting for the call. He remembered the last time he sat on the hood, he and his brother had been on speaking terms.

Two weeks had gone by since visiting their mother's grave and killing their first zombie. The boys were unusually quiet during those weeks. Sam thought it was because his brother was embarrassed he had fallen apart in front of him. That very moment Dean looked to him for help, guidance, love, something; Sam couldn't even toss him a bone.

Their father's death was a subject Sam had tried to get Dean to open up about. Guilt had plagued Sam since they left the hospital because of the way he had treated his father when he last saw him. His brother had an undying devotion to their father and when he died, Dean wouldn't tell Sam how he felt. He only knew that Dean had barely been hanging on. Family was everything to that man and it was ever diminishing.

So why couldn't Sam have said the things he had thought of telling his brother? He had thought before what he might say in the event Dean opened up. Yet, no things could ever be the right things to say. The words were just words, Hallmark expressions and Kleenex impressions. It was the chick-flick moment, he had been waiting for and Sam felt helpless. If he felt helpless…how did his brother feel at that moment? Truly exposed and vulnerable.

Of all the possible things Sam could have done for his brother, he would have just had to pick one and he would get an "A for effort". Instead, Sam sat there on the hood of the car watching his brother struggle. Sam couldn't even give Dean a half-assed embrace, not a friendly hand on the shoulder, nothing. He waited there until his brother looked away and wiped the few tears he had shed. He cleared his throat and told Sam they should hit the road or they wouldn't make their next destination in time. That was it, never brought up again.

Now weeks later the only words exchanged were "I'm going out" and "I'm taking a shower." Sam had to be the biggest loser-brother since the history of ever. Here his big brother, his hero since forever, had run into a patch of kryptonite and Sam didn't even help him.

Dean had always been the peacemaker and comforter in the family, the shoulder to lean on. Sam did not have very much experience in either category. He couldn't help it, he was the little brother, and fixing hearts was not in the job description. Sorry to say, little brothers were good for only two things: getting all the attention and getting into trouble. Not much else.

Sam decided there was only one thing to do. He dug his phone from his jeans pocket and scrolled through the phonebook list. Glancing down at the number, he wondered if he was making another mistake. Figuring he could not do much worse _that_ epic failure, he punched the call button.

"Singer, here." A gruff voice answered on the second ring.

How was Sam gonna ask this? "Uh, hey Bobby. It's Sam."

Immediately the tone of the older hunter changed. "Sam, how you boys doin'?"

Sam could make out genuine concern on the other line. "Look Bobby, I know we were holin' up your place just a month ago…"

Bobby knew where this was headed. Johnny's boys had a knack for beating around the bush. Lucky for Bobby, he's known these boys for a long time and could tell when they needed a place to stay. He really didn't mind, the boys being at his place made it seem more like a home than just a house.

"You and Dean want to come back and take a break? I'd be glad to have you boys back home. I'll just clean my arsenal from you boys' room."

Sam almost jumped in relief Bobby had always been good to him and Dean. He was by far their favorite person to stay with during the summer when their dad could hunt easier without having to worry if his sons were doing there homework or getting into trouble with school authorities. Sam could remember some good times at Bobby's salvage yard.

"There's just one thing. Dean doesn't know I want a break. Could you…"

"Call him up and make up a reason he has to come? That along the lines you were thinking'?"

"Yeah." Sam paused a moment then added, "Bobby? Thanks." He heard the other line click off. Now he just had to wait. The Winchester men just were not ready to be out in the field yet, they just needed a little more time. Maybe Sam could fix his brother yet.

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Dean watched the world pass by through his beer goggles. In his opinion, none of it was very interesting. Except for that barmaid. She looked surprisingly like the male bartender he saw earlier tonight. Maybe they were twins. Or maybe Dean should just quit drinking, 'cause he had the tiniest idea that the barmaid was the bartender and in that case Dean was even more shitfaced than he thought.

Being able to cope had been just accomplishable for Dean. His father's death had been perhaps the lowest blow he had ever had to endure. He had been four when his mom died and he thought his heart hurt then. That four year olds' heart had eventually healed. He still had Dad and he had Sammy.

Not anymore. Dad was gone, to Hell for him. Dean was sure of it. No one makes a miracle recovery in a hospital and then finds their loved one dead in the room down the hall without suspecting something. Yeah, so the Winchester's knew more than the average person did, but any Joe could put two and two together. Dean had his ticket firmly in hand and his dad snatched it from him.

Now he just had Sam. It wasn't a bad thing at all having Sam. He loved Sam more than life. But he wasn't Sammy anymore. Sammy could laugh at his jokes any day, anytime, anywhere. He could hug Dean and give him the puppy dog eyes and everything would be fine. Sammy always knew the right thing to say. Sammy somehow was misplaced when he went to college and a brainwashed, replacement Sam was sent back in his place.

Dean knew the kid had been through a lot. It broke his heart what his brother went through when Jess had been killed. Being the big brother, Dean did what he could to fix his Sammy. However, being a skilled mechanic like his father, he knew some things could not be fixed. Some of Sammy's parts were worn down and broken. The irreplaceable kind. But he tried to fix him and every once in a while, his old Sammy would come to life.

Two weeks ago, _Dean needed his Sammy._

He had been driving down the highway and all the sudden he just could not breathe. He had to tell someone he needed help. That he was drowning in his thoughts. Whose shoulder better to cry on than your best friend, your brother? He sat on the hood and opened up not leaving anything out, except for his father's last orders. Dean wished he did not have to hear it playing repeatedly like a broken record. He decided Sammy didn't need to hear that. Ever.

He had asked Sam to fix it, tell him it wasn't his fault their world just crashed and burned. He wanted his brother to make him feel better with something Classic Sammy. Dean didn't mind being needed, in fact, he thrived on it, but he was not above being needy when the situation called for it. He looked to his little brother guilt and pain and need in his tear-filled eyes. Nothing.

Okay, this could go in Dean's Awkward Moment's File under "C" for chick-flicks moments. It's located next to Dean's Wall of Shame. He hoped the moment would never be brought up again.

It took a lot to pull it together and get back in the car. Took all his strength to not look like a dejected beaten dog. This was one of the very few times he wished Sam was not there.

Dean was snapped back to the present when he heard "Smoke on the Water" playing out of his pocket.

"Hello?" He never said his name when he answered, unlike Bobby and his father. If someone was calling you, obviously they knew who you were. Not to mention, he never knew who was calling.

"Dean, its Bobby."

Dean eased at the sound of his friend's voice. Bobby had been a great friend letting Dean and his brother stay with him after their dad died. He wasn't sure they should have left quite yet, the wounds were still open. The incident two weeks ago proved as much. However, Dean insisted, he really did not want to impose on Bobby. The truth was Dean was scared to get close to anyone anymore. _They all die._ The worst of his fears stuck in the back of his head was if the one person he loved most would die. Dean would be damned if he would let anything happen to Sam.

"Hey there Bobby. Did ya miss me or are you callin' just to chat?" With anyone else, the last remark would have sounded sarcastic and rude, but the two hunters were the only people that knew Dean meant it. After his dad died, Bobby had been a secret sympathetic ear. It was apart of Bobby's job description. Many times, he had taken care of the boys for John in the summer. He had played the role of "uncle" so many times getting the boys outta town police stations and hospital trips that near gave him a heart attack.

"Actually, I was callin' to ask you boys to come up here again."

"Sammy put you up to this didn't he?" Dean had been betting his little brother would do this.

"Uh, yeah."

"Thought so. Look Bobby, you don't have to do this. Sam's just a whiny bitch geek-boy, you can tell him no."

Dean heard the older hunter snort over the phone. "I know I can tell both you boys no, Dean. Remember who you kids used to stay with most of your summers? Truth is, I didn't want to tell him no--"

"Did he use his puppy dog eyes?"

"Dean?"

"He must have figured out a way to make his puppy dog eyes work over the phone…" Dean became lost in thought. Little brothers were manipulative. Sam had a silent way to be manipulative. _His eyes._ Chicks had always told Dean that he had bedroom eyes; well Sam had the anti-bedroom eyes. Sad puppy dog eyes. If he ever figured out how Sam did that, he'd--

"Dean?" Snapping out of his little moment Dean answered.

"Huh? Yeah?"

"I said how 'bout it? You guys come on back to my place. Take a break; you can help me with some of the cars."

Dean's eyes lit up and a smile dared to tug at his lips. Was he really that easy to bait? Yup. Fixing cars was something he and his dad could do. It made him feel good when he could fix up a car good as new. Loved to hear a clean engine purr, to see the fan and belt move effortlessly.

"Alright Bobby. Didn't know you missed me and Sam so much." He teased.

"Okay smartass. If you aren't here in the next day or so, I'm hunting your ass."

Dean's eyes widened. "How do you know where we are? Sam tell you?"

"You are John's sons. 'Course I know where you boys are. Y'all just settled that headless spirit in Colorado didn't ya?"

"Yeah." Bobby really kept tabs on them? How?

"How do you--"

"I'm not telling. Now get a move on boy." Bobby ended the call.

Dean pushed the first number on his speed dial. "Sam, pack up, check out and pick me up. Were goin' up to Bobby's."

Just as quick as Dean had made the call, he ended it. That was the most he has said to Sam for two weeks. He really should talk to Sam. It wasn't the kid's fault Dean had let himself fall apart. It certainly was not Sammy's job to pick up his broken pieces and patch him up. For one there was not enough duct tape in the world and two, it was Dean's job to fix everyone. Little brothers just are not _experienced_ in this area.

Speaking of little brothers…Sammy must have been driving very carefully, Dean could tell. Mostly because Sam knew he would be dead meat if so much as a scratch ended up on the Impala, but also because it was Dean's and the kid respected that.

Sam pulled up next to the door and waited for Dean.

Tipping the She Male bartender as he gathered his coat, Dean headed for the door. _Oh, God!_ Sam was sporting the beat dog look. Dean had to come up with something to say to him. He couldn't take living in a mopey Sam's pocket.

_What can I say? New haircut? No that kid never cuts the mop on his head._

He was quickly closing the space between him and the car. _So three girls walk into a junkyard…maybe it was a bar…Damn, he drank too much_.

_Got the time?_ Two steps left…

Dean opened the door and plopped himself in shotgun. "Nice work bitch, you didn't scratch the car."

He smiled at his brother.

Sam's face seemed to light up and he smirked. "Yeah, well I have a real jerk for a brother. He'd kill me if I scratched it."

"Really? I think I like the sound of that guy."

The next sound was absolute music. Sammy laughed and soon it became contagious because Dean joined in. The brothers laughed until they were gasping for air five minutes down the road.

**I've got another chapter coming...but I gotta go to work. So I'll put it up later 'cause you guys are probably all like where's lassie and old yeller?? Review please?!?**


	2. Real Men Eat Pie First

**I thought I'd put in a chapter of humor and pure life being lived. So have fun 'cause after this chapter is where the real healing begins.**

**BTW: The cast of Supernatural requests a moment of silence before the show tonight in rememberance of Kim Manners who passed on January 25. **

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Eventually, the boys arrived at Bobby's house. They had talked and laughed the whole way there. Both were glad things were back to normal with each other. Things were just so much easier when Sam and Dean were on speaking terms.

Sam parked the car behind Bobby's and the brothers unloaded their bags. Dean, of course only brought out his bag and waited on Sam to get the rest.

"Come on geek-boy, fetch the rest of it!"

Sam just rolled his eyes; Dean could be a real ass sometimes. Reluctantly the younger brother followed his brother's directive. What else was he to do?

Halfway to the door Dean took some of the bags from Sam and stated that he was too slow. Again, Sam rolled his eyes. He knew his brother took the bags because he saw him stumble over a piece of scrap metal.

Finally, the boys reached the door and Dean pulled out the house key Bobby had made for them. They opened the door and plopped all their bags and equipment in the entryway.

"Bobby? Are you here?" Sam looked to his sibling and shrugged. Dean set off to search the house. It was only coincidence he started in the kitchen. Sam knew they should have stopped at a fast food restaurant.

"Say, Sam? C'mere." Absence of panic in his brother's voice told Sam his brother didn't find anything out of place.

He popped his head through the kitchen door. He saw Dean going through the fridge. His brother took a container out and grabbed a spoon from the drawer. Sam didn't know what was in the container but he was sure his brother wouldn't like it. "Huh? What is it Dean?"

"Bobby left us a note." Dean handed the note to his little brother to read. He took a bite of the casserole stuff he found in the fridge. Oh _God_! He spit it back into the container and shoved it back into the fridge violently. He opened the cupboard under the sink and pulled out a jug that was labeled Holy Water. Boy did he ever need it! He had to exorcise that taste from his mouth fast!

"Is the tap water not good enough for you?" Sam teased as he watched his brother clean the spoon with the rest of the Holy water from the jug.

Dean flushed slightly and offered up a sheepish grin. "I'm pretty sure it was possessed."

Sam chuckled and began to examine the note Bobby left.

Boys,

Glad you could drop by. Sorry, but I've got a poltergeist a few towns over. Be back in a day or two. You are welcome to anything in the fridge, just don't feed my damn dog beans again! You boys thought that was mighty funny, didn't ya? Do it again and I'll hunt your asses down. And please, please don't break anything.

Bobby

P.S. I don't get porn channels Dean.

Sam looked up from the note and found his brother had every cupboard door open. "So, what do we do?"

Everything in the house looked boring and dull. The young hunter sighed as he looked around; Bobby's house without a Bobby in it was no fun.

Dean glanced at his brother after ending his fruitless-scratch that- junk foodless search.

"I'd suggest going out to the yard and find some things for my baby, but its getting dark. No sense in risking getting tetanus stepping on something out there." It was the best way Dean knew how to say 'I dunno, what do you wanna do?' without sounding like a total chick.

"Dude, how do you even know what tetanus is?" Sam was only half-teasing his brother, he really did wonder how his brother knew some of the stuff he talked about. His big brother was supposed to be the handsome and dumb one. Maybe not dumb. Sam still didn't know how his brother managed to make an EMF meter out of a walkman or even came up with the idea. Still, Sam wanted to be the smart brother.

"Shut up bitch! I'm hungry."

"I'll run into town and get some dinner. I believe we've established the fact that Bobby hasn't bought anything edible since the last time we were here. Wanna come with me?"

Dean shook his head, Bobby may not have food, but he had beer. He shuddered as he pondered how Bobby was still alive after some of the things he ate. Last time he and Sam were here, he had to go into town and buy groceries. The unpleasant memories began to flood back of that horrid grocery run. He was nearly fondled to death by an older-than-dirt cashier.

At first, he thought he was making small talk as she rang up the items, telling her he was Bobby Singer's nephew and he and his brother would be leaving soon. The next thing he knew, she had him up against the wall with her crinkly old lady hands all over his butt, telling him she could give him reasons to stay. Sam had laughed at Dean when he had relayed the shopping trip. Dean sincerely hoped karma had been paying attention then.

"I'll just put our stuff up in our room Sammy."

Sam huffed, grabbing the keys to the Impala and he left. Yup, Dean really hoped karma was trailing his brother. If Wanda liked Dean, she'd love Sam.

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An hour later Sam came back with his arms overflowing with groceries bags and takeout food. "Hey Dean, help would be nice."

Dean popped out of the kitchen holding a beer. "Yeah, I'm sure it would be. I'll let ya know when the help comes."

The older brother leaned back against the wall and took a long swig on his beer bottle.

"I'm gonna drop everything and there is pie in one of these bags." He seemed to have said the magic words because his older brother sprung into action grabbing all the bags from his arms. Dean took the bags and them on the kitchen table. Sam had barely reached the kitchen when he heard his brother pawing through all the bags.

The young hunter swatted his brother's hands away from the pie. "Dinner first Dean."

Sam must have met Wanda. He patted his little brother's shoulder. "I'm sorry you lost it Sammy."

"Lost what?" Sam was positive his brother was being a smartass, but he'd humor Dean if it meant entertainment.

"Your man card. Dinner first, geek. Real men eat pie first." Sam rolled his eyes. That was completely lame, his brother must be running on empty or he was losing his touch.

"Fine. Grab the pie and then meet me on the couch."

"Kinky Sammy, but I don't think the couch is big enough for what you want to do."

Dean ducked from the spoon Sam threw at him. It was a lame thing to throw, but Sam was a little scared of what Bobby would do if he and his brother broke something while he was gone. That man could be flat out scary sometimes. After quickly putting the groceries away he grabbed the remaining two bags and headed for the couch.

One bag contained dinner, he knew Dean would give in and eat it. Whether the pie came first or last, his big brother couldn't resist a good southern cooked meal, even if it was just takeout.

The other bag contained rental videos, Lassie and Old Yeller. Sam knew that dog movies were neutral ground. He and his brother could actually agree on them unlike when they fought over the romance dramas and gory horror flicks.

Dean brought two beers with him to the couch as well as the whole pie and two forks. He handed the drink to Sam as his brother sat down.

"So, I have two movies here which should we watch first?"

"Is it porn?"

"No. Do you honestly think I'd watch porn with you?"

"I think you're too prude. Rated R?" Sammy is no fun sometimes.

"No."

Dean huffed and settled himself deep in the couch with his arms folded over his chest. "So what are we watching? Freaking Sesame Street?"

"Lassie and Old Yeller." Sam watched as his brother perked up.

"So, I take it those are okay choices with you?"

"Yeah pop in Lassie. And give me my food." Sam handed Dean the Styrofoam box that contained his food and stood to pop in the movie. When Sam turned back to his spot he noticed his brother had already sprawled out in his place on the couch.

"Dean, dude, scoot over. I got up for five seconds and you have your legs and food in my spot."

"Shut up Sammy. The movie's starting."

"Me shut up? You shut up!"

"Shut up!"

"Quiet!"

"Shh!"

"Dean!"

"Fine."

"Fine."

A moment of silence passed before, "Hey Sammy? If I trade you some fries, can I have some of your mashed potatoes?"

"You do realize they are both made out of potato, right?" Sam caught sight of Dean's version of puppy dog eyes and sighed nodding to him.

"Okay." Once the brothers had settled all other food trades, they sat back with their feet on the coffee table, what Bobby didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

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